I Know You Won't
by AnalystProductions
Summary: She knows her broken heart only keeps beating because of the unconditional devotion for him. Everything is for him. He deserves nothing, absolutely nothing. But he has everything, including her heart. - You say you'll call, but I know you. Channy Oneshot


I know I said I wouldn't update in exam time, but this idea came to my mind and I couldn't resist! It's a oneshot/songfic, inspired by the song "I know you Won't" by Carrie Underwood :)

I hope you enjoy this peice. I've worked hard on it and tried a few different writing styles within this to my usual stuff, hopefully they're effective to the peice.

If possible, listen to the song "I Know You Won't" by Carrie Underwood whilst reading ( http:/ www. youtube. com/watch? v=ZZ yh583RkNk )

Thanks!

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**I know you don't mean to be,**

**Mean to me.**

_"You," he cupped her face in his hands, gazing into her stern, emotionless eyes. "Are the only one I love." Pressing his lips against hers, she complies, convincing herself this kiss is proof of his affection. The moment his lips retreat, she realises she's not kissing a man, she's kissing stone._

_Cold, emotionless, hard stone._

**Lately you make me feel all I am**

**Is a back-up plan.**

Standing on the balcony of her home, she pulls her lips into a tight line which falters weakly into a frown. Her eyes are vacant, staring endlessly into the horizon rimed with the last glimpses of sunlight. Beneath her eyes are dark circles, gesturing extreme fatigue and lack of sleep. Her complexion is sickly, drained of colour. Defeat attaches itself to her heart without consent, though consent never stopped other demons devouring it whole and regurgitating unwanted leftovers. There's not much left of her heart. She knows it only keeps beating because of the unconditional, reckless devotion for him.

He doesn't deserve devotion.

He doesn't deserve anything.

But he has everything, including her psychotic, self-inflicting heart.

**I'll buy into those eyes**

**And into your lies.**

_He walks into the room slowly, gazing at the brunette sitting solemnly. Her trembling lips betray the emotion locked inside. Averting her eyes to the white tablecloth, her fingers trace the patterns poignantly. He plants a kiss to her cheek, mumbling a hello. She inhales the smell of musty feminine perfume on his shirt –and it's a different one to last time. The tears distend her eyes at the thought. Blinking rapidly, she composes herself when he sits opposite her. Letting him see it isn't fair._

_"How was- (Pausing the brunette coughs, attempting to rid the lump in the back of her throat slowly building up) t-the cast meeting?" Choking on the swelling within her aching throat, the reoccurring feeling of throbbing begins._

_Picking up the fork on the table, he lunges for her heart._

_"It was okay." It's a direct hit. There was no cast meeting. They both know she's aware of what's been going on._

**You say you'll call but I know you.**

She tries to suppress the emotional breakdown clouding over her fragile body. But eventually she knows she'll succumb to it, she _always _does. That familiar swell is building up at the back of her throat, creating an endless throbbing which circulates through her pulsing blood. Then the small ache cascades into excruciating pain in her weathered heart. She doesn't have long. Clutching the balcony railing tightly with trembling, sweaty palms, she presses her eyes shut, shoulders hunched.

The night breeze catches her in an embrace. It caresses her hair sympathetically, ghosting over her tightened lips. And just for a moment,_ one _small moment, her cold body is sheltered from harm's way by a comforting warmth. Just for a moment, his fingers are stroking her locks softly- just like he used to. Just for one moment, his lips are moving against her in perfect harmony. He used kiss attentively, responding to every command her lips enquired.

But that was a long time ago. Things had changed.

He never _truly _kissed her anymore. On the rare occasion he kissed her, it was brief, cold- _meaningless. _It was almost a chore, a _burden _to bring his lips to her. He never embraced her in his arms anymore, aside from the rare occasion where they were in public places, and a casual arm would be reluctantly slung around her waist- it would hang loose and uncomfortable, barely touching. It made her feel as if she was diseased, ugly- _unwanted. _His reasons for departing for weeks on end were becoming more and _more _ridiculous. Each time they stood that doorstep, and he told her he'd be back _in a few days or so, _she let him go.

She lets him go because she loves him.

He tells her that he'll call.

He never calls.

Sometimes she goes along with his deceptive lies, forging elusive stories which she convinces herself to be real and not merely a lie created by her desperate, longing heart which was constantly bleeding, constantly _mourning. _He hadn't called last time because his phone had no signal. The time after that, he had left on low battery, it had died by the time he was planning to call her. And the time after that, he'd been too busy to call. And the time after that, he hadn't had her new number on his phone, he'd left hastily after all, it was easy for him to forget-

-lies. Lies she wished were true.

**I say I'm done and then you smile at me**

**And I forget everything I said.**

_Tawni persuades her to go attend the So Random night out. Hesitant at first, she agrees. She hopes the blemishes eating away her heart won't show over the make-up and glamorous dress. For the first time in weeks, she finds herself truly smiling, truly laughing. And despite all the joy she feels with her friends, it's not where she really belongs. She belongs to him. She belongs in his arms._

_"Where have you been?" He pries the moment she enters the house. Ignoring him, the happiness drains from her body instantly. She walks into the kitchen, taking out the cold pizza in the fridge._

_"Where have you been?" his voice is a little more enraged than before._

_"Out." She replies weakly, not wanting to rise to the temptation of arguing again._

_"What do you mean out?" he asks in a tone that suggests she's just murdered somebody._

_Shutting the fridge with more force than intended she turned to face him confidently._

_"I mean going out, having fun."_

_Silence._

_"You could've stayed at home with me." His words were empty, lacking sincerity enthusiasm. _

_And then she gazed into his eyes, falling back under the spell she'd been under since they'd met. Sighing deeply, she smiled glumly, surrendering. He always won._

_"I'm sorry." She muttered. "I shouldn't have gone out; I should have been spending time with you."_

_She takes his hand in hers tenderly, and pretends she's oblivious to the missing ring on his finger._

**Here I am just staring at this candle**

**Burning out.**

It usually takes a few minutes for self-respect to degrade away. This time it took far less. She knows once the tears start, they don't stop. It starts with the first rolling down her cheek. The next one comes swiftly. And then suddenly the swelling in her throat bursts, bringing with it a feeling of inconsolable heartbreak. Gasping for air between intense violent sobs which shake her body, she releases the balcony, unable to hold on any longer with trembling hands. Second after second, the sobbing intensifies into relentless mourning. A whimper escapes her strangulated throat, sounding as a mere whisper. Her limp legs give way and she's on her knees, fingers scraping against the cement, head bowed in sorrow.

She buries her head into her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs solemnly. Her inexorable sobs hurts her _so_ _much_, burning the back of her sore throat. Then the feeling of her head being trapped in a constricted vice emerges. She writhes at the bitter sting, unable to control the flood of sadistic tears pouring from her eyes. Rocking back and forth frantically, she attempts to console herself, bringing her hands to her pounding temple. Her eyes clamp shut. The tears don't stop. _Please stop. _She pleads to her crumpled heart. She begs. It doesn't stop. She knows it'll be like this for hours. Endless tears, endless pain; endless.

It's all for him.

Everything is _always _for him.

**And still no sound of footsteps on my stairs**

**Of your voice anywhere.**

_So Random rehearsals finish earlier than expected, so she decides to go home. After all, it's his day off. She can't afford to waste any time with him. He doesn't stay home for long anymore. Today is a sign, showing that God has finally answered her prayers. Pulling into the empty driveway, her hopes crash and burn into a disastrous oblivion. She makes it to the front door quickly, tugging the post-it note attached to it into her hands:_

_"Gone out, back soon."_

_Scrunching it up in her palm she sighs._

**You say you're coming home but I know you.**

She leans her aching back against the wall, shaking hands rubbing against her untouched, cold arms. The stain of tears on her t-shirt is increasingly expanding. Melancholy engulfs her, throwing her callously into a pit of despair. Weeping silently, she chokes for air, though it will make no difference if it reaches her. Her lungs have already been filled to the top with tears. It will make no difference if she stops breathing. He won't know, because he won't call. He won't be coming home. Tearing the phone from out of her pocket, she clutches it weakly in her quivering hands.

It's not ringing.

It's not ringing.

He told her it would be ringing.

But it's never going to ring.

Never.

**You say you'll call but I know you won't.**

_"I'll be back in a couple of days." he says smiling at her gently._

_She bites her lip whilst nodding weakly. Without any goodbye gesture, he turns away walking down the steps towards his flashy convertible._

_"'I'll call you." He adds insincerely, almost as if he's forgotten to say thank you to someone for a complement._

_Standing at the entrance to their mansion, her lips tug into a solemn smile. She watches him drive off into the distance._

_"No," pause. "You won't."_

**You say you'll call but I know you won't.**

Scrolling down the contact list, she reaches his name. Through blurry vision, the mere sight of those four letters placed next to each other in that order intensifies her bawls. She knows she shouldn't. She knows he _won't_ answer. Her finger lingers over the call button _wanting _so badly to press it. Her dignity urges her not to. It tells her she's worth more than him. It tells her it's time to let him go before he pulls the trigger on her defenceless heart. She never listens to it. Instead, she listens to the slow decaying of her heart, the sound of it splitting into pieces. Among its anguish, it tells her that it's all worth it. Pressing the call button, she swallows a lump of tears. He's hers. She's his. It even _says _so on paper.

She always listens to her heart.

But deep down inside, she knows that a marriage certificate is a poor way to convince herself that their relationship is a healthy, functional one. It's a piece of paper, fragile, worthless paper which she no longer even _knows _the location of. She knows it's somewhere in the attic, in a box parcelled up. He boxed most of their memories away.

_Hi, this is Chad Dylan Cooper. I'm unable to come to phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep and I'll call you back as soon as I can._

…

_Beep. _

The phone in her hands falls to the ground, landing beside her. Clasping her eyes shut, she presses a hand forcefully to her mouth to silence the sudden scream of torment escaping her lips. She'd imagined having children with him, naming them, raising them. She'd imagined their love to last forever, _and ever. _

But everything to him always had an expiry date, including love.

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Thanks for reading! I hope you liked the idea of not using Sonny's name at all, and only using Chad's at the end, it was an idea I had to add impact. I'm planning to do a kind of response to this in Chad's POV sometime to explain his behaviour...and I have few more fluffy oneshot ideas to post soon.

Feedback and reviews are always appreciated (:


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